Turning Point
by Zayz
Summary: LJ. “You are going to be head-over-heels in love before the first day of sixth year. The turning point has happened. You’ve already dug your own grave.” A seemingly normal morning run-in with James Potter goes horribly wrong. Significant language. R&R?


**Turning Point  
****By: Zayz**

--

A/N: Well, this is basically pointless, but I felt the need to write it. You know, with the whole guilt-over-not-writing-much-fan-fiction-lately deal. It's just something that was inspired from real-life and needed to be done. So I did it.

This fan fiction is dedicated to two of my best friends – Niki and Ella. I love you both, even when I bitch at you both in the morning. You'll get why that's significant a bit later.

That goes for the rest of you too – you're the reason I pull up the courage to show people what I write. I'd literally be nowhere without you.

This takes place fifth year, when James is still an obnoxious prat, as told by my favorite made-up OC, **Ainsley Catherwood**.

Enjoy the fic, I hope.  
Xx

--

January is one of those months that just pretty much sucks.

There are a few months out of the year that are just generally nice – May, August, and September. They're in-between months, where it's not so dramatic and the mood is pretty mellow, or it's changing quite exquisitely.

Then there are other months that pretty much suck – like January.

It's fair to ask why January is such an awful time in our three-hundred-and-sixty-five-day year. But it's even fairer of me to answer that there's simply something in the air you can't ignore, some particle in the wind, some bitterness about the enduring cold, something that makes people _unhappy_ (to put it lightly) during this particular month.

For me, it happens to be worse than it is for everyone else.

Today, I'm in the dreaded middle-matter of the worst month in the world. It's January twelfth, eight in the morning, a terrible snow-storm blowing outside and making all our breath visible even indoors. I don't even know why I've let the so-called authority figures force me out of bed, because life is pretty much rubbish at the moment.

I'm yawning, and I'm hungry, and I don't think I ate breakfast. I'm not really a morning person, in case it's not obvious enough. It's time like these when I wonder how I have any friends at all.

But thankfully for me, I do – I have a few acquaintances, mostly in my dormitory, whom I speak to quite politely (for me, anyway) and I have my one best friend, Lily Evans. She's probably better than every single person here at Hogwarts put together…and then some. I like her loads, and for some unfathomable reason, she appears to reciprocate the feeling. I dunno what I did right to get her, but I thank my stars I did it, because only Lily Evans would endure me at eight AM outside of first period Charms in the corridor where we hang about together, and not even scowl.

Nope. Not mostly-cheery Lily. She's eating an apple from the Great Hall and chattering away about the latest gossip, ignoring my sulky commentary between her words. It's our daily morning routine – and she knows I'm just naturally petulant and I can't do anything about it. I actually love listening to her gossip. She manages to get some absolutely filthy goods on people.

"So Frank _swears _he saw Marlene snogging Amos outside the greenhouses the other day," Lily is telling me, her green eyes getting all big like they do when she finds out something particularly interesting. "And Amos is going out with Mary, and Mary is Frank's ex-girlfriend from last year, and currently kind-of his friend, so he doesn't know if he should tell someone and embarrass Mary and Amos – because you know he and Amos are friends, right?"

"I think so…" I pretend to rub my chin in mock-contemplation. "So who was Mary again?"

Lily raises her eyebrows at me. "Stop being a prat, Ainsley. Be serious, please. There's a bloody scandal going on here! What's Frank supposed to do? He might've made a mistake, but he's almost positive it was Marlene and Amos…and it's not the first time he's seen them, you know, _at it_."

"I think Hogwarts has a serious issue with hormones," I report.

Lily rolls her eyes. "So what would you do, if you were Frank? Would you tell Mary that her boyfriend was snogging Marlene in secret, keeping in mind that you broke up with her yourself last year?"

I open my mouth to answer, but before I can speak, Lily cuts me off, "I mean, pretending that you were Frank – who is a guy."

"Damn, you messed up a really hilarious remark on that gender issue," I say sorrowfully. "But I wouldn't do anything about it, personally."

"Why?" Lily presses.

"Because it's their business, not mine."

"Doesn't Mary have a right to know something like that?" Lily demands. "I mean, if you can save her from her bad relationship, then shouldn't you? Help her, I mean?"

"No," I say simply. "Let her live. She'll figure it out. How do you know she already hasn't and isn't biding her time until she can act?"

This is a valid point, and Lily can't deny that. But, knowing how stubborn that girl is, I'm not surprised that she tries anyway. "But you'd be a good friend, and you'd be showing her you care," she insists.

"So you consider a good friend to be a nosy friend?"

Lily huffs. "Fine. I'll tell Frank not to tell Mary."

"Good for you." I nod appreciatively. "Oh, and just a thought…how did _you _know about all this, if it deals with that other love square?"

"Because Frank asked my advice in secret," Lily informs me. "He trusts me."

"I never said that was a bad thing, I was only wondering," I defend myself.

"I know, but I'm just saying," Lily says.

"Yeah, so was I." I blow a strand of my dark hair out of my eyes. "Merlin, this school acts like they're on Love Potion or something. It's mad."

"Speaking of people on Love Potion…" Lily gets all tense now, her voice a weird mixture of tight, miserable, ominous, and wary. She tucks her hair behind her ear, her face turned more downward, but not in a cowardly way – more like she's preparing for a huge battle or something.

She's in a passive position facing me more prominently instead of leaning openly on the wall, so immediately, I glance over her shoulder to see what's bothering her. My gut instincts are proved correct the moment I spot that familiar black hair sticking up in the back, a flash of a smile I know way too well for comfort.

It's James Potter – grinning and walking towards us, closer all the time. He makes eye contact with me, sees Lily's fiery red hair, and at once, he knows this is the place to be. He's practically a master at the art of irk-the-bloody-hell-out-of-Lily-Evans by now. He approaches us and the look on his face is not a very promising one for us.

"Hey Evans, Catherwood," he greets us amiably, grinning all stupid-like and rumpling his hair. "How goes it on this fine, fine January morning?"

Lily leaves her face in her hands and does not resurface. I snort at him.

"Bugger off, Potter – isn't it a little early for you to harass her right now?" I check my watch. "You normally start around nine. You've got an hour yet."

"Oh, I know," he says. "But I need my Evans fix." He winks at her, even though she's pointedly avoiding his gaze. "It's hard to love a girl who thinks she hates you."

"I do hate you," Lily mutters, her tone low but determined, her green eyes focused in the other direction.

"She does hate you," I confirm for her. "Kind of like how I hate your bloody friend Black."

James waggles his finger at me. "You don't hate Padfoot and Evans doesn't hate me. It's all in her head, see. Passionate love for _the _James Potter is hard to swallow, I know, I know, but you've got to get out of denial some time."

His smile is rather foolish as he finishes, "Because you know you're going to have my babies one day."

I scoff at him in revulsion. Did he honestly just say that? Aloud?

"I wouldn't have your babies even if they were starving in the street," Lily shoots scathingly.

James raises his eyebrow. "You're a baby-hater?" he asks. "Merlin, Evans, isn't that cruel? Child abuse? You'd take your anger out on a defenseless baby just because it was partially mine?"

Lily colors pink as she realizes what she said in a moment of weakness and hastily amends, "Well, no…I'd give the baby to someone else…you know, someone who can stand you…because I don't think…I don't think I _could_…"

James's grin only gets wider. He's got her trapped. How unfair – it's far too early to think right now. I decide to speak up on Lily's behalf.

"You know what, Potter, you need to bugger off," I announce. "Go on, shoo. We don't need you here right now."

Ignoring me, James sidles up to Lily and gives her one of his silliest grins, the one he gives her when he's probably having some kind of mental orgasm at the thought of her and he craves some kind of attention from her. She half-glares, half-stares-piteously at him and whines, "Go away, Potter. It's too early to hex you like you deserve."

"You don't want to hex me, dearest Flower," James soothes her. "You adore me! How could you not, really?"

Lily's eyes narrow and she looks dangerous – dangerous like she does when she's about to forget everything about the world except how badly she is about to hex James Potter. James himself looks a little worried, recognizing this flash of deadly emotion, and I'm guessing she's going to do something _awful_ – like, flesh-and-hair-cell-eating-orange-fungus-all-over-his-head kind of awful. I take a few steps back to prepare myself, but Lily's wand is not shoved into James's eyeball yet. I watch tensely, as does James, wondering what damage is in store for the boy today.

That's when Lily surprises us both. She doesn't take her wand out at all. She stands there, arms folded, and talks very quickly, but very coldly, to the bane of her young existence.

"Okay, here's how it works," she says. "I'm not going to hex you this time, but there are rules involved now, from this point onwards."

"Rules?" It's obvious in his tone – James is confused. He's not dead yet; to be honest, I'm pretty confused too.

"Yes, rules," Lily verifies. "And here they are." She pauses. "You might want to take notes. That is, if you are still in the practice of doing so."

James ignores the slight and, apparently to humor the love of his life, pulls out a quill/ink/scrap of parchment from his pocket. He looks expectantly at her. "Yes?"

"First thing first," she says. "You are not allowed to even look at me until nine o'clock in the morning, when I am conscious enough to deal with you."

"Can't…talk…until…nine," James mutters, scribbling on his minute piece of parchment. I stuff my fist in my mouth to keep from cracking up.

"No, you can't _look _at me until nine," Lily corrects him quite bitchily. "You can't _talk _to me until ten."

James scratches out what he wrote and revises it. Once he's done, he looks back to Lily very politely for the next rule.

"Next," she continues, "you are not to come within a meter of my personal space at _any _point in the day. I don't want you near me. We need some boundaries here."

"Need…boundaries…no…coming…within…a meter…" James writes this down as well.

"Third rule – if you absolutely must speak to me in public, no more than one friend is allowed to accompany you," Lily informs him. "I know you like all of your Marauders there when you come to bother me, but that's not allowed anymore. Pick one and ditch the rest. I'm not having an audience."

"No…audience…one…friend…" James grunts. I must step away and squeeze my eyes shut, even though it kills me to miss the fun; not only does James sound like a Neanderthal, this is absolutely fucking hilarious!

"Fourth rule." Lily considers for a moment, appearing an extra moment to quickly construct a rule to keep James at bay; and then she says, "Our worlds are separate, Potter. _Separate_. That means that your friends cannot come to me and hug me. That also means you are not to act in any manner that suggests we are anything more than classmates forced to learn magic together – because Potter, I am not your friend. You have your life and I have mine. Live and let me live too, all right? I want respect and I want space."

"Respect…space…no…perfume…friends…no hugging…classmates…forced…learning…together…separate…worlds." James squints at his parchment as he squeezes all this in. Meanwhile, I think the black hole where my heart should be has already combusted with laughter. I don't even know how I'm still alive.

James has done basically everything he can to worm himself into Lily's everyday routine over the past year and a half, as if he really did want to be her friend (although with significant benefits). His friends interact with her, much to her consternation. He has sung her love songs by Celestina Warbeck (blegh) in the common room in the evening. He has sprayed his perfume (ahem, _cologne_) all over her in the hope that some of him lingers on her skin.

Once, he even tried to buy her a butterbeer on a Hogsmeade weekend when Lily was on a date.

Granted, that one didn't work out very well because Lily's boyfriend was pissed-off and Lily dumped the glass over his head, but he still did it and he's not allowed to anymore. My redheaded best friend is not even kidding this time – her eyes are flashing murder, her hands on her hips, and she's glaring at him like a dragon-lady enjoying the pain of her prey.

James finishes his notes now, dotting his last i's and crossing his last t's with his quill. He puts his bottle and quill away, holding only the parchment covered with wet ink outlining the various rules Lily has created for him to follow. He holds it like it's the Ten Commandments or something.

His expression is quite polite as he inquires, "Is there anything else you'd like to add to that list, Miss Evans?"

"Not for the moment," Lily says gruffly. "But if there is, I'll let you know."

I'm surprised at the gracious manner in which Potter is responding to all this new information. He's taken it rather well, considering…well…everything.

But, my surprise vanishes on the spot when he gives her a tight grin plainly concealing plenty else and asks, "Would you like me to put a Permanent Sticking Charm on this parchment and charm it to my forehead so I remember, Miss Evans?"

Oh, the arrogant berk. Lily's eyes are fire as he can't dam his laughter back anymore, and simply releases it into one hearty guffaw at my best friend's expense.

"I can _not _believe you!" Lily hollers at him, all semblances of morning exhaustion evaporating into the thin, dangerous air around us three. "James Potter, you are a right bloody arse, you know that? We'll see if you're laughing when I actually _do _that charm on you tonight, you arrogant, filthy little twat."

Livid as James continues to weep with laughter at her expense, Lily steps forward and kicks him smartly in the groin before turning on her heel and stomping off down the corridor, the smoke coming from her ears practically visible on her person.

Since I have a moment, I can't help it; I laugh too, with James, the two of us here together, cracking up even though we shouldn't be and he's made Lily furious. I wipe the tears from my eyelid, as does he, as our breaths finally regulate and I wave good-bye, walking leisurely down the corridor, knowing Lily's probably upstairs in our first hour classroom already. When I finally manage to come up and find her, all semblances of my own morning exhaustion completely gone, she's sitting in her seat chewing on her hair, looking like she could breathe fire at any second. I can't help but snicker as I sit on the table-top beside her.

"Hey, Lils." I pet her red head. "How are you?"

"Fantastic." Lily's tone is flat, which is weird when I think about her outburst before, and she continues to chew on her hair. It's one of her gross Lily-habits that James finds cute and I find bloody strange.

I watch her do it for a moment or five before I say, "You know, Lils, that was pretty hysterical back there with James."

"Well, I'm glad you think so," Lily shoots at me. "I live to entertain you and I've been working on that bit with Potter for a while now. It worked out. Huzzah."

Lily's always snappish after a confrontation with James, kind of like I'm always snappish January (particularly in the morning), so I forgive her crankiness as I sigh and say rather casually, "There's no going back after this, you know. The deed's already done."

Lily looks strangely at me. "What do you mean?"

I shrug. "The whole James Potter deal. There's no going back now. You've already made your mistake, hit the turning point."

"What are you on about?"

I stare at her blankly. "Merlin, Lils; for someone so smart, you're damn dense sometimes."

"You're being mightily cryptic – is that my fault?" Lily's green eyes have not lost the danger of a few minutes ago. "What do you mean, the turning point? What have I done to make this different?"

"You've established official intimacy," I declare.

She screws up her nose all confused and stares uncomprehendingly at me. "Intimacy? How the bloody hell was that intimacy we established? I established _boundaries_ – you know, the things that inhibit intimacy?"

I shake my head. "Nope. All you did was give him a written set of rules that, when broken, will finally result in him getting what he wants – which is you. You know how he is with rules, Lily-kins; he'll only succeed when he breaks them."

I see Lily's pupils constrict slightly at this truth, but she's still cautious and unsure as she asks, "So why is that the turning point? Why do you say this like it's already absolute?"

It's difficult, but somehow, I resist the urge of cracking up all over again at my poor, deluded best friend.

"You know, you've been in more relationships than me – because you've actually been in some – so I find it odd that I know more about all this than you do," I say smartly.

Lily makes that irritable noise at me so I simply continue, "Lily Evans, you no longer hate James Potter."

"What?"

"You heard me right." My tone is fairly triumphant. "You don't hate him. You've finally told him how to get to you – the secret key to your ever-elusive maiden's heart." I make a cute little gaga-eyed-angel-face at her for effect. "You've told him that in order to get you to fall in love with him, he's got to get to you when you're vulnerable, subtly morph your worlds together, act like you're more than acquaintances even when you push him away, and screw the idea of giving you respect and space because you're waiting for the guy who does everything wrong and charms the fuck out of you anyway."

My grin couldn't be bigger if I tried. "You are the easiest book to open, my dearest Lily-Flower," I say, half-teasing and half-serious, "if someone knows just how to decipher your sneaky little ways."

I give her a poke on her chest where her heart is. "And after being a Lily Evans expert for a couple years of his life, I think James got a gold-mine of information that is now going to be used in a far more successful attempt to win you over – because he's got all he needs to know written on a piece of spare parchment you might charm to his forehead tonight."

I stroke dumbfounded Lily's red hair with a final sigh. "You are going to be head-over-heels in love before the first day of sixth year. The turning point has happened. You've already dug your own grave."

Lily lets her hair fall from her mouth back down to her shoulders, chewing on her lip now instead, visibly worried.

"You're wrong," she says softly, almost as if to reassure herself than to tell me off. "That's rubbish. I will never love him."

People are beginning to filter into the classroom now and the conversation is no longer private. It doesn't matter anyway because there's nothing else left to say. Despite the gray, disgusting, cold, bitter January morning just outside the castle, I leave pensive Lily to her thoughts and slide off the table, ready to leave.

"It's already begun," is the last thing I say in her ear before I go back to my own seat a few rows down.

--

A/N: Big, fat, can't-miss-it review button down there. Be sure to visit on your way out.


End file.
